


she tries

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Hurt/Attempted Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose is a wordsmith, but comfort is the blade she simply cannot wield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she tries

**Author's Note:**

> BARFS ITS 8AM

Rose Lalonde is in love with words. 

She has tried before to shift her attention elsewhere, to find a new passion because really, words wouldn't get her anywhere in life. Music and art were fine, she supposed. But to her, she will always be decently-average at everything else, and brilliant with words. 

She adores the way she can lace horror from syllables, draw tears from murmurs, bring laughter from pixelated fonts. It's its own magic, at least, as close as she's going to get. It's fine with her, though, because she loves what she does, and it seems to love her, too. Rose knows how to intimidate, knows how to spark smiles, knows how to bribe and cheat and lie. Words are dances, conversations are ballrooms, and Rose watzles like royalty. 

 

When Jade gently shakes her awake at night, Rose expects that she can't sleep because her narcolepsy stole whatever fatigue she'd had during the day, and wants a tale. She does not expect tears in bright green eyes, quivering lips, bitten swollen and raw. 

"Rose," Jade whimpers, "Rose, please, I had an awful dream, I..." She falls onto the other, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

And Rose is lost. 

Hesitantly, her hand moves to Jade's hair, and she strokes it softly, languidly, running it through her fingers. It's a mess. She must have been tossing in her sleep, which would really only make sense if she had a nightmare. Rose rubs Jade's temple with her other hand. She has thousands upon thousands of words in her mind, but none will organize. There is nothing consoling, nothing comforting, that Rose knows how to say. So for a while she lies there, combing her fingers through Jade's hair until they aren't stopped by knots or tangles, tracing features she already has memorized by heart. There is a tight feeling in her chest, and her hands feel very cold. She is, at last, at a loss for words. 

The one time she really, truly wants to speak, and nothing will come out. 

Rose desperately goes over books in her head, over movies, over anything at all that would be taken as calming. It is then that Rose realizes that one does not learn tenderness through the media, but through observation, through experience. 

What has she been soothed with? What words here whispered into her ear until the tears stopped, until her ragged breathing steadied? 

_Nothing._

When Rose wanted comfort she turned to her own words, fashioned stories and spun tales until her wrists ached and her hands screened for rest, eyes crusty from staring at a screen. The document would be deleted, and she would go back to sleep. 

Rose wishes, now, that she was not so stubborn. It's a trait she often admires in herself, but now, she despises it. Why has she never asked for help before? Why has she always forced herself to remain alone? Now she is not, and she is afraid. 

Yes. That's it. 

Fear. 

There are no words, and it scares her.

"Rose?" The voice is soft. It cracks a little, and it breaks her heart. "Why aren't you saying anything? Did you-did you go back to sleep?" 

"No," Rose can answer. "I didn't." 

"Why aren't you talking?" 

"I don't know what to say."

A silence balloons around them. It's suffocating. It forces itself into her lungs, chokes her. 

"Try 'it's okay' or 'you'll be fine,'" Jade suggests. It isn't harsh, or sad, it's a guidance. 

It takes a lot for her to accept it, but she does. 

"It's okay," Rose attempts in the smoothest voice she can manage. "It's okay, Jade, you'll be fine. I'm - I'm here. You're not alone." 

The brunette's grip tightens. She murmurs a thank you before she's asleep again. 

The blonde lies awake until sunlight peeks through the curtains, just short of terrified.


End file.
